


and life goes on

by symphonyine



Series: happy families are all alike [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Family, Gen, Kou Rei and Makoto cameo only, M/M, Rin centric with focus on Rin's relationship with his dad, open to interpretation if they are officially an item or not, the RinHaru isn't really major or the focus just so you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 20:21:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphonyine/pseuds/symphonyine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin is bad at letting go. Or, healing only begins with a relay. It doesn't end there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and life goes on

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pennyofthewild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennyofthewild/gifts).



On Rin’s sixth birthday, his father took him fishing. 

Rin has few memories of his father that haven’t been blurred by time, years bleaching them of clarity, details washing away as water slipping through fingers. Sometimes in Australia he would wake up afraid, heart racing as he strained to recall elusive smiles, strained to recreate a familiar voice, and driven to frenzy would go for a run, almost believing that if he ran hard and far enough he could go so far down bygone paths he would catch up - with who, he wasn’t sure, and didn’t want to know. 

But that day - it’s one of the clearest memories he has of his father. One of the clearest, the dearest, the most secret. He doesn’t permit himself to think of it often, not after reading once, in Australia, that every time one recalls a memory, the brain rewrites it, associating new thoughts and emotions with the memory, and thus altering it. There are some things in his life Rin can’t allow to change. 

The sun, piercingly bright on the turquoise water, glinting off the edge of the battered boat. Its heat warming his face, as he squinted and stood at the prow, excitement thrumming low in his belly and in his dancing feet. He’d pretended he was an adventurer, out to seek the great unknown in his tiny vessel, and had given an embarrassed giggle when Dad called him down to help carry equipment up. Years later, mortified, he suspected his father probably had some idea of the silly fancies that had caught his mind, trying to sieve out real memories from false projections and wondering if the knowing quality in his father’s laugh had been real. 

The boat travelled some distance out to sea before Dad had deemed the waters deep enough. It may have been only minutes, but back then it had felt like forever, the ocean overwhelming in its vastness, stretching boundless so he imagined it would never end (though he knew it would), swirling and heaving beneath the vibrating hull. Rin had felt nervous, but more exhilarated than that, pointing out the undulating foam trailing behind them.

“It looks like a dragon, Dad! Like the backbone of one. This is _so cool_!” 

“Now that’s one way to look at it,” Dad had laughed. “You’re so clever!” He’d ruffled Rin’s hair, and Rin had beamed up at him, his heart swelling - that was one detail he never doubted, the lightness in his being at that moment. “Just don’t lean out too far! Careful!”

He wondered why his father had chosen to bring him fishing. At six he hadn’t questioned, at sixteen he was bitter. Fishing had been the mediocrity his father had been forced to settle for. Why show his son the back-up plan, the second choice? Rin would have preferred to have gone to see his father’s old swim club with his father as a birthday gift - but he was ten years too late to tell his father that. 

*

A week before Rin’s seventeenth birthday, he finds himself in Iwatobi again. This has become a regular occurrence, and he realises he’s glad for it. 

New traditions have started, old ones been resurrected, and among them is running together. Rei gets unbearably smug and excited at the start - of course, he’s the (ex-)track member, with better stamina and form and technique than the rest of them - and tries to teach the rest of them some theory, including what he terms “strategy and tactics in running”, which sounds nerdy as hell and makes Rei seem like he’s taking himself too seriously- scratch that, he’s taking himself too seriously. No one really listens, though eventually Rin caves a bit and asks, which he half-regrets, because Rei has three entire bookshelves dedicated to nothing but running, and half-doesn’t because it’s actually really helpful and kind of interesting. 

"Always keep your eyes looking forward," is the last piece of advice Rei gives him one afternoon as Rin leaves Rei's house for the Samezuka dorms. "Focus on the endpoint, it helps to drive you forward. But you can't push too hard either, running too fast will burn you out, or trip you up. And always watch out for unexpected obstacles!"

Their usual route takes them round to the beach, and today there’s a single boat speeding out to sea, the familiar vertebrae-like foam behind it recalling unbidden memories. Later, Makoto asks if he’s okay, and Rin feels guilt, heavy like lead, thinking of summer camp at the island, and then furiously squashing down the memory before it goes too far. 

“I’m fine,” he snaps, more angrily than he intended, but doesn’t try to clarify (that it’s himself and not Makoto, who has done nothing to offend him), and pretends not to see Haru looking at him, pretends he hasn’t felt Haru watching him since they passed the beach, when he’d sped up and sprinted ahead of the Iwatobi boys, waiting for them only at the designated end point. 

*

In the week leading up to Rin’s sixth birthday, his father had teased him with hints of the present he’d planned for him. Three days before his actual birthday, on a Thursday night, Rin had come bounding up to his father, pouncing upon him the moment he stepped through the front door, and said, “You’re taking me fishing aren’t you?! Right, Dad, right, dad? Right, right, right?”

Dad’s face, weary from a day at sea, had immediately brightened up, and he’d laughed, a deep, rolling sound. “All right, all right, you got me!”

“Eew, why’d’you want to go fishing?” Gou had whined then, nose wrinkled as she stood by the stairwell. “Fishing is so boring.”

“What do you know?” Rin had shot back, sticking his tongue out and wrinkling his nose in much the same way. “Fishing is the coolest thing ever, Dad does it all the time, so how could it not be cool?” 

Gou’s face had turned red then, mouth open to deliver some childish retort, but then Dad laughed, a different sort of laugh, almost rueful, or perhaps wistful too, though Rin hadn’t been sure then, and was even less sure now. “I wish you were right, son, but fishing really isn’t the coolest thing ever. There are definitely things I would rather be doing, and there are definitely jobs way cooler than fishing.”

“Ha!”

“But! Don’t look down on fishing, Gou,” Dad warned her playfully. “There are always unexpected surprises to be found out there, if you search the right places and wait patiently enough. That’s pretty cool too.”

“Ha back at yourself!”

“Mom, onii-chan’s being mean to me!”

“Am not! Dad, you saw me!”

Later, much later, when it was too late, Gou would admit, almost ashamed, that she’d wanted to go too. Rin had told her she hadn’t lost out on anything, but neither of them quite believed him. 

*

Lately, Rin has been spending more and more of his time with Haru. It makes him happy - Haru makes him happy. 

Still, sometimes there are silences, unbreachable distances across a tabletop. 

Rin never knows what to say. Oh, he knows what’s on Haru’s mind right now, can see the question and the worry playing out in Haru’s eyes, but he’s going to wait it out. They’re both going to wait it out, wait to see whose dam breaks firsts, who spills over first. 

It’s evening now, the sun has long set, and they’re both in Haru’s house, alone. Alone isn’t usually so awkward, alone doesn’t usually have Haru trying to bore holes into Rin with his gaze, alone doesn’t usually have Rin staring fixedly, unseeingly at the face of Haru’s dead grandmother. 

It’s Haru who breaks the silence - but for Haru, breaking the silence is not the same as breaking - saying, “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Rin refuses to look at Haru. “Jeez, it’s nothing. Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Don’t change the subject. And don’t look away,” Haru reproaches him. Rin contemplates ignoring him, and only very reluctantly turns back to face him properly. 

There’s a furrow in Haru’s brow, and Rin’s fingers itch. He wants to smoothen it out, but he’s also not sure he can speak without letting go of things he’s clutched close to his heart, not sure he can speak without engaging in emotional verbal diarrhea. 

But it’s just Haru, right?

“I... saw the boat. My father took me fishing, once, on my birthday,” Rin mutters, stabbing at his mackerel. 

There’s more silence, and Rin wants to scream at Haru, his patience slowly grinding to dust as he watches Haru mull over this information without response. 

He’s about to say something, anything, probably something embarrassing or stupid or both, when Haru speaks at last. 

“Would you... like to go fishing again?” Haru asks, tentative, uncertain, almost timid. “On your birthday. It’s this Sunday, right?”

*

He’d fucked up, on his birthday of all days. He’d fucked up on a day his father had specially put aside to show him something new. 

He wishes he didn’t remember that part so clearly, as clearly as the rest, but it’s burned deep into his mind, ember red and angry as a scar. He’d fucked up big time, the swooping fall and then crash of his high emotions etched deep into muscle memory, every recollection reenacting the internal tumult in the moment he’d lost their catch – the actual details escaped him, he could barely remember what he’d even done wrong. Nothing stayed so clearly as the aftermath, disappointment and guilt enveloping him. He’d apologised, and his father had offered some comforting platitudes, and that’s when he started crying. He hadn’t been crying at first, but there was something his father had said and then the tears just welled up and then he’d felt ashamed and tried to wipe the traitorous tears away and pretend they hadn’t fallen, but then they were falling like the rain and Rin tries not to think too much about that, it doesn’t matter that he was only six and it shouldn’t have mattered (and definitely didn’t to Dad) because it matters to him. A lot of that afternoon ended up wasted on Rin insisting he was fine and his father seeing right through him, and sometimes Rin isn’t sure if he’s more ashamed that happened or more longing and envious, because of course he finds a way to be jealous of himself as well. 

They’d continued fishing on Rin’s insistence, he being determined not to ruin the day, but it was already ruined, with Dad continually checking on him, a palpable undercurrent of concern destroying any enjoyment to be sought, and finally, Rin gave in and they stopped. 

Rin was subdued on the way back. He sat in a corner, sad and anxious and regretful. He felt the motor stop, the boat bumping gently against the quay, and got up, head hanging, ready to head back home. 

And then Dad had called, “Where are you going?” 

He’d gestured to the food that still remained, grinning cheerfully, and slowly Rin cheered up. 

“Might as well stay up all night!”

“Really?! But what about Mom?”

“We’ll deal with that when we have to,” Dad winked. “Come back here, Rin-rin!”

“Don’t call me that!” Rin laughed, jumping away from Dad’s lunge. 

It was dark by the time they finished eating, the faint cawing of seagulls and echoes of children’s laughter filling the lulls in conversation. It’s a little sad that Rin remembers the silences better than the words they exchanged, remembers the warmth in his father’s smile better than the shape of his mouth. 

Not everything has been forgotten though. 

After dinner, they laid the tarp out on the deck, and lay down together. The boat was rocking more deeply, the waves swelling higher and dipping lower as the tide came in. The soothing motion, the soft, salty air that pervaded, the warm food filling up his belly, all of it was comforting to Rin and he’d started to grow drowsy, curling up against his father. In the moonlight he remembered the silvery tint on Dad’s weathered cheeks, the rumbling vibrations of his dad’s voice, echoing pleasantly as Rin rested his head on his chest, and listened. 

“You said there were things cooler than fishing, right?” Rin murmured later, not quite managing to stifle his yawn. 

He almost fell asleep in the pause, jolting back into consciousness when Dad finally spoke again. “Yeah... Back when I was a kid... Older than you, but still a kid... I swam with the best friends anyone could ask for,” he said softly, a smile on his lips so tender, Rin felt himself smiling too, and without prompting Dad continued talking, his words passing from his heart to Rin’s ear above it, and Rin listened, rapt with growing attention, wonder and desire taking root in his own heart. 

“Why didn’t you continue swimming?” Rin whispered, long after Dad was silent, hushed, curious. “If you had so much fun, why’d’you stop?” 

Dad never gave an answer to that question, pointing up at the night sky instead. Rin squinted, trying to follow his dad’s hand, straining his heavy eyelids. “Do you see that? That one over there?”

“Huh?”

“There are many stories, about that constellation - the group of stars that goes that way - Orion. There’s one that says the moon goddess was in love with him, but was tricked into killing him. She couldn’t save him or undo his death, and so in grief hung him in the night sky.”

“That’s so romantic,” Rin exclaimed. “They’ll still be together.”

“No,” Dad corrected. “What she hung was only her image of him, created of pure stardust. The real man rotted in the earth, his soul forever out of her reach.”

“That’s lame.” Rin sat up, scowling. “Why couldn’t she save him? She’s a goddess. And anyway, even if he’d died surely there would have been a way for them to be together again. She could have brought him back to life!”

Dad shook his head, half-amused, half something else Rin still doesn’t understand. “I don’t think you quite understand what ‘dead’ means, Rin. But anyway, the point is that she knew when to let go, and what to hold on to.”

“Hnnnnnrgggghhh. I don’t get it,” Rin snipped grumpily. 

Dad snorted. “That’s okay.” He pulled Rin back down against his chest. The last memories Rin had of that night were of the warm beams from the distant lighthouse, cutting through the endless dark of the sky and slipping past his lids, and his father humming a sailor’s song, a hymn for safe harbour and faithful light that reverberated through his bones. 

*

On Rin’s seventeenth birthday, he and Haru go fishing. 

It’s a Sunday, just like it had been eleven long years ago, with the sun high in the sky and the waves rhythmic and familiar. The fishing doesn’t go much better than it did years ago, both boys lacking in experience. But that’s all right, it could have gone worse, Rin was half-expecting Haru to jump into the ocean or go on about mackerel all day. 

It’s not the same boat, the engine is much smoother, and it gets too cold to stay out in the night. They go back to Rin’s house instead, where his father had built a treehouse with a perfect view of the distant beacon beckoning lost ships to bay, and Rin wonders if Haru would indulge him some nostalgia, if it would be alright to speak. 

He’s incredibly grateful, he realises, that Haru’s here. 

“I think I understand what my dad said about fishing,” Rin says suddenly. “About catching unexpected blessings, or something.”

Haru scowls. “Are you comparing me to a fish?”

“Nagisa calls you a dolphin all the fucking time!” 

Much later, Rin watches the digits on his watch flick by, and his birthday passes with his head on Haru’s chest, listening to the heartbeats that he imagines will go on forever, regular as the tide (though he knows they won’t), and says, “You know, I’m never letting go. Not of the things I’ve decided I want. I won’t settle for less.”

“Hmm.” Haru says, eyes already shut and clearly fed up with Rin’s non sequiturs, shifting so that he could nuzzle closer.

**Author's Note:**

> Unedited and unbeta'ed, so apologies for any silly errors, and do point them out if you see them!! Rushed bc family festivities and SATs before that ): And also because I am shit at time management. Anyway, concrit is welcomed!! I seem to keep doing this thing where I combine prompts instead of fulfilling only one and the end product ends up somewhere in between and neither here nor there. At any rate, I hope it's at least satisfactory, sorry Penny!!
> 
> For those wondering where Kou and the rest of the boys are, Kou and Mama Matsuoka got to have dinner with birthday boy and boyfriend, and the boys are going to ambush Rin later (not before sneaking photos of cuddling boyfriends of course).
> 
> Edit 1: 04 February 2014. Added in Rei's dialogue, edited some of baby Rin's, fixed some inconsistent tenses.


End file.
